


Feathers

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Harry Potter Next Generation, Light Bondage, M/M, Roughness, Slurs, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy catches Scorpius sending a letter and punishes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IzPerplexing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzPerplexing/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
> 
> Old gift drabble for a friend. This is mild AU; Teddy is a werewolf in it.

Scorpius whimpers as he’s slammed into the hard wall of the corridor, arms already trapped behind him. He closes his eyes tightly—he’s not ready to see this. The stone is cold against his cheek, and he’s dragged slowly to the floor by his neck. Lupin hisses into his ear, “Owling for help, were you?”

Scorpius shivers and shakes his head. When his knees hit the ground, he can feel the feathers cracking beneath him—the remnants of an owl that didn’t quite get away. Scorpius wonders faintly if Lupin’s eaten owls—he knows the werewolf would eat _Scorpius_ if he could. But Scorpius knows not to wander into the forest near the full moon. He tries not to use the safe word, and the only times he ever wants to is when it isn’t even an option; it’s not a werewolf’s fault it can’t speak English. But sometimes he _has_ to, and right now he wishes he could speak for other things—he wants to ask if his owl’s alright.

He’s too terrified. The words are all ice in his throat. He stays where he is, trembling with fear and want, while Lupin strips away his robes, shirt and trousers and shoes all that’s left—no underwear when he’s _hoping Teddy will come_ —tossing them aside. Scorpius has gone through more uniforms than the rest of his house combined. Lupin slips the green-and-grey tie from his neck to bind his wrists together, although he wouldn’t dream of moving them. He’s a good boy. For hungry werewolves, at least...

He wonders vaguely if his father will fret over not getting a reply. Scorpius _wants_ to stay in the castle over the winter holidays. He went home for the last six years, but this is his last time. The time he now has a student-teacher he’s always wanted. He was going to owl his father that, if Lupin would only let him. He wonders if Lupin even read the letter he caught, or if he shredded it along with the bird. Lupin’s long fingers run all along Scorpius’ body, climbing up beneath his shirt and tracing his inner thighs. Scorpius shivers under the caresses, arching back into it enough for Lupin to chuckle, hissing, “You’re such a _slut._ ”

Scorpius hangs his head when his legs are nudged apart. The words make him burn, and his only embarrassment is over how much it makes him keen. He doesn’t struggle, though his breathing quickens. He can’t tell if he’s _really_ in trouble or how much this will hurt. His trousers are rolled down his hips as much as possible, the fly unzipping down the front. Lupin hooks his chin over Scorpius’ shoulder, his entire body shifting to elongate, enabling him to nip at Scorpius’ ear like a snake. Whoever said all Gryffindors were heroes was _lying_...

Lucky for Scorpius, a _Slytherin_ who likes it rough and cruel. Lupin’s belt hits the floor. Scorpius’ hearing is hypersensitive in the deserted corridor; anyone could come in and see them. It’s late, and the only light is from the pale stars out the cutout window, and the wind that rips through the air tears at Scorpius’ skin. Lupin’s hands run all down Scorpius’ exposed ass, cupping his cheeks and squeezing. Before he can stop himself, he’s breathing, almost too quiet to hear, “ _Teddy_...”

He’s slapped so hard his head whips around. He always forgets how much Lupin hears; how little Scorpius can get away with. Tears sting at the edges of his eyes, and he won’t open them so they won’t fall. Lupin drapes all over his back, and Scorpius can feel that familiar, hard cock slipping between his cheeks. It’s always too big for Scorpius to manage, and it always gets bigger when it’s inside. A pathetic whimper escapes Scorpius’ lips before he can stop it. Lupin claws a trail up his shirt, snapping all the buttons off. Every time one hits the floor, Scorpius winces and _wants_. The fabric falls apart, revealing his pale chest and reaching scars. All the places he’s been marked.

“You’re a filthy whore,” Lupin growls as his hand runs all over Scorpius’ chest and stomach. The night air is cold, but his skin is warm, burning wherever it touches. Lupin doesn’t touch Scorpius’ crotch when he reaches to the floor, picking up a torn, black feather. He presses it along Scorpius’ chest while he continues, “...Sneaking out at night like that, when you know your master’s on the prowl... didn’t think I wouldn’t smell you slithering about? You reek of my cum...” He fists a hand in Scorpius’ hair, yanking it back to expose Scorpius’ pale neck. Scorpius gulps, trying to be quiet. _That’s why he waited for tonight._

Then the feather’s bent around his nipple, tickling and torturous. Scorpius’ face is screwed up in exquisite sensations, and he mumbles, “Did you kill her?” His head’s jerked back for his insolence—speaking without permission—he gasps himself out of air.

“Your bird?” Lupin chuckles. His voice is deep and dark. “What kind of a monster do you think I am...?” His tongue laves down Scorpius’ neck, dipping into his exposed collarbone, before he murmurs, more quietly, “She’s fine... it’s _you_ I like to hurt... I only crush snakes...” His fingers claw in Scorpius’ chest, the feather digging into his skin.

Scorpius’ eyes slit open, looking back at Lupin’s short hair, glinting turquoise in the pallid light. His eyes glow stronger than his piercings, feral and in control. Scorpius tries to say thank you with his own. He wants to say sorry he doubted. But he knows he shouldn’t speak. Lupin’s grip tightens in his hair.

Lupin jerks him backwards into a brutal kiss, thick tongue instantly diving into his mouth. It swallows his instant moan. The feather slips to the floor in front of him, and that hand slides around his back, down to the curve of his ass. When’s it clear that Scorpius isn’t going to try and escape the kiss, the hand from his hair trails down to his neck, closing firmly around it. But Scorpius always struggles to breathe around Lupin. Lupin bites hard on Scorpius’ lip when he pulls back, only to growl, “I _own_ you.”

Flushed with mounted lust, Scorpius nods obediently and wonders just how many new marks he’ll get tonight.


End file.
